Frisk's Gift
by ABirdAndAPlane
Summary: Frisk gets a little but firm gift from Toriel. Contains farting. No like, no read. (My first story, so any helpful criticism is appreciated. Rated T to be safe. Cover art done by KirbyTheBluestBlue on deviantart.
AN: First story! Yea...

Brought to you by: What the fuck am I doing with my life? Inc.

(Toriel and Frisk belong to Toby Fox)

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The smell...

It was not very obvious at first, it simply smelled only a little different from the norm. It was a smell, very unnoticeable, but in no way describable. Frisk paid it no mind, until it became noticeable enough for Frisk to sign, [What's that smell?] and curiously look at Toriel. Toriel, who was on the other side of the small, circular table they were eating butterscotch pie on, was currently looking at her food, and did not notice Frisk's sign. Frisk tapped the table loud enough to get Toriel's attention and signed again, [What's that smell?]

Toriel's stomach growled, and she pushed a little harder on the fart she was currently releasing. The sound went from silent to a quiet running motor, and Frisk realized what 'that smell' was. They didn't act any different, to Toriel's surprise, and continued eating their pie. Frisk did however, sniff the air every few seconds to, in their opinion, get a whiff of the beautifully disgusting scent they liked so much.

"I'm sorry, Frisk. Do you mind this... situation?" Toriel seemed very worried, as she never did this around Frisk, and was afraid it would upset them. Frisk shook their head and signed, [No, I don't.] Toriel relaxed enough, but still seemed a little worried to Frisk. Toriel let the fart she was pushing out become louder, and much more in amount, much to Frisk's liking. [I really don't mind it, you can do it whenever.]

Toriel finally fully relaxed and pushed, releasing her current fart all the way, creating a noise similar to a dragster revving up it's engine. The smell became obvious, old pie, some rotten eggs, and spoiled quiche. Anyone else would be cringing now, coughing, hating the horrible sell coming from Toriel. Not Frisk. They loved the smell, oddly enough, and wanted all of it. They sniffed it up like it was the scent of bathroom freshener. Frisk liked it, a lot, too much. So much that at this point, in anyone's eyes, Frisk had something wrong with them. They loved the smell of their mother's farts. But Frisk didn't care. All frisk wanted right now was more of this scent. [Is that it?] Frisk signed and looked at Toriel with the straightest face possible, to try and avoid any confusion. Toriel shook her head and asked, "Do you like it?" Frisk froze.

They signed, out of feeling they shouldn't lie, [Yes...] Toriel froze. She had so much pent up gas she needed to let out, and since Frisk would like it, now would be the best time to let it out. "Finish your pie first... Frisk." Toriel had finished her pie already, so she would tell Frisk to eat their's to have time to digest it into gas. Toriel could choose whether or not the food she ate became gas or not. She choose gas, usually because it felt better and didn't make her get up to go to the bathroom. It was part of the reason she didn't have toilets in the ruins. But now, she would choose gas for Frisk, because she loved them, even as the weirdo they are.

Frisk finished their pie and Toriel told them to wait a minute. Frisk sat there, sniffing the room again to see if there was any gas last over from Toriel's last gift to Frisk. There wasn't. They sat, squirming, waiting, and Toriel chuckled at their actions. She found it particularly funny to see someone be impatient over a fart. Not impatient over waiting to get away from the smell of a fart, but impatient over waiting to get the smell of a fart. "Okay Frisk. Come over here if you want."

Frisk practically raced over to get behind Toriel, and since the chair had a little hole on the back, they got a perfect view and gateway to magnificence. (AN: Most dining room chairs have this, so if you're confused about the hole, go look at a dining room chair.) Frisk put their face in Toriel's ass, which turned out to be very cushiony. Toriel made a squeak on impact, and said, "Are you sure you want to put your face there, Frisk?" Frisk reached their hands around the chair and signed, [Yea, let it go, mom. Really want this.] Toriel blushed at the mention of her as 'Mom'. Toriel reached behind and rubbed Frisks hair, and pushed.

Then heaven came, and Frisk loved it.

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MORE AN: I can make this into an ongoing story, if anyone wants. Although I doubt anyone will find this story at all. I currently want a proofreader and/or editor, so if you have good grammar skills and are good at spotting mistakes, just pm me. I would also like my proofreader to help me with improving my writing.


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